The Devil's Foundry
Chapter 11: Shadowed Wings

Seneschal Hawkwright of Silverwall stood in the sealed gardens.

The gardens sat sealed deep in the heart of the palace, behind two sets of walls, rows of trusted guards, and the seal of his office, without which the final doors would not open. He had opened them this day, with the head Lepidopterist and their newest charge.

The Seneschal said nothing as the other gently took the cage he was holding and undid the front latch in front of a stand of Nightdust lilies.

Within, the golden moth shifted slightly.

It was small, wings still wet from just hatching from its cocoon. But the smell of the flowers enticed it from the cage, and soon enough it fluttered up to the flowers, perching with its golden wings. In time, those wings would dry, and the dust sprinkled would contain all the positive benefits of the Nightdust Lilies, without the poison that could take a man’s life, regardless of level.

Well, without almost all the poison.

The newest moth was one of eleven in the sealed garden, and it was Hawkwright’s duty to see them well maintained. The Seneschal turned towards the Lepidopterist. “How go the rest of the eclipse?”

The man bowed. “The other moths are performing well, your grace. As I have long maintained, Silverwall is an optimal climate for them. The cool winters are beneficial for their longevity, as opposed to the sweltering arboretums of the south.”

Seneschal Hawkwright nodded, dismissing the man. Alone in the secret garden, he watched the eleven moths flutter from stand to stand before returning to their perches. Over time, they would flap their wings, and a small sprinkling of dust would fall onto the carefully positioned trays. It was a bare handful, but the Republic of Vecorvia had learned well that you could shear a sheep many times, and skin it only once.

It was, in fact, the same principle that they applied to the Royal Family and its carefully pruned branches.

Of course, for a tree so lovingly tended, the loss of a single blossom could spell the end of Hawkwright’s control of Silverwall.

He stood in silence for long minutes before his other agent arrived.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Tell the guards to let me in next time,” the woman replied.

As Seneschal Hawkwright turned to the new arrival, he could not help but think of them as a study in contrasts. He was old, his hair gone, and his beard cropped tight against his cheeks. For all that, he stood unbowed, his eyes sharp as the hawk that was his namesake.

Mornia was young, pretty, perhaps, for a year or two more with her strawberry blond hair and blue eyes. But the Breath of Gold was already taking its toll on her body. Her eyes were clouded, and they kept darting to the moths, but Hawkwright and his guards still deterred her. The two men at her back were not there for Mornia’s protection, and everyone in the room knew it. For now, that was enough to stay her hand.

Hawkwright liked to meet with his assets here, to see when they would no longer be controlled.

The Breath of Gold, the dust of the Royal Moth’s wings, was a powerful tool. It allowed the Senate control of Vecorvia, though they cared little for the backwater that was the northern part of the island. They left it to Hawkwright and his line, allowing him complete control of this little fiefdom.

What use was silver, after all, when you could have gold.

“How goes the attempts to retrieve the princess?”

Mornia winced. “They botched it, boss.”

Hawkwright raised an eyebrow. “They? I told you to take those fools in hand.”

“You also told me not to get caught!” Her voice came in a sharp hiss. “So I broke them up into cells, and good thing I did too! That ‘Lady’ down there has turned the little nowhere village into a right fortress. She smacked around one of my best groups a week ago. If they’d all been in one place, I’ve no doubt she’d have found the damn camp by now too!”

Hawkwright hummed, stroking his chin with a single gloved hand.

“You know, I could handle this myself, if you…” Mornia’s eyes glanced significantly towards the moths. “Me and one other, tops. I swear it.”

He fixed her with a sharp glare, pinning the girl in place with his gaze. “You haven not shown promising results for your ability thus far.” He slashed a hand through the air as she went to reply. “Besides that, I have other reports. How much Breath would you need to take that fortress of hers? Three vials, four? We have other concerns, you halfwit!”

She looked down, working her lip mulishly. “You said you wanted her back.”

“And I do.” He shook his head. “But without the Watch realizing what we’re up to. Damn blithering fools in their northern fortress. Or worse, if the Senate gets involved, you can say goodbye to ever taking another Breath again.”

The Senate liked control. Thus far, he had maintained control by keeping beneath their notice while they played more important games in the capital city. The moment they turned their eyes north, he was done for.

“That must be avoided at all costs.”

“Fine. Then what do you want me to do about it?” Mornia spread her arms. “I’m down to half a vial—” Hawkwright shot her a thunderous glare, and she immediately backpedaled. “I’ve been careful, I’ve been careful! But it took some doing to get all damn adventurers singing my tune, alright?”

He let out an explosive breath, folding his hands behind his back. That was the conundrum, wasn’t it. Not for the first time, he wished that he’d been more proactive with the criminal element of Silverwall, but it had all been beneath his notice.

Even the silly little gang war the old Adventurer’s Guild had kicked off wouldn’t have phased him, if Duchess Ivey hadn’t used that opportunity to slip Princess Ishanti out of the city.

If the Princess hadn’t had the wits to ingratiate herself to the outworlder witch.

“Perhaps I should just send the guard and be done with it,” he muttered, even though that idea was a non-starter. If he brought armed men south, towards Corvandr, the Senate would want to know why. No, he had to solve this through other means. He shook his head. “Clearly, the time for delicate work is long past. Rally your little band of malcontents and storm the walls.”

“Uh, they won’t much like that, Seneschal, sir.” Mornia wrung her hands. “Most adventurers aren’t really the heroic types to begin with. Asking them to attack a fortified position? I’d lose half my force the night before, and the other half the next morning.”

“What do I pay you people for?” He shook his head.

She shrugged. “Tier two combat classers don’t grow on trees.”

Hawkwright knew she was right. Deniable assets were not easy to acquire, and Mornia had proven valuable in the past. Even it was clear that she was quickly outliving that value.

“Figure something out, then.” He waved his hand. “I’ve heard that even rats will bite, when backed into a corner.”

“That’s the problem.” Mornia shrugged. “Hard to feel backed in when you’re attacking a hard target. If I had their number in trained guardsmen, maybe a couple of ballista to crack that palisade, I could do it. With a demoralized band of would-be bandits? You’d have better luck writing a letter.”

“I sent you, because you can crack walls yourself, Mornia.” Hawkwright let a hint of venom creep into his tone.

It didn’t affect the younger woman. “Sure, once, maybe twice, them I’m outta juice.” She shrugged. “If you’ve been keeping up with my reports, you know that the Lady has those farmers singing her praises. It’ll take more than two holes in the wall to force a breach. You gotta take the fight out of people like that first.” She pulled a face. “S’what I was trying to do, till she pulled one over one me.”

“Then I suggest you look into getting even.” Hawkwright glowered, and here he’d been a fool hoping for good news. “I stand by what I said: the time for soft power is long past.”

“Give me a real hammer then, Seneschal.”

He grunted, stroking his chin again. It’s true, throwing men with no discipline at a wall would only lose resources. Still, Seneschal Hawkwright knew a thing or two about squeezing blood from a stone.

He did it every day with the Duchess.

“I will turn out the rest of the adventurers from the city, as well as the fledgling ‘Exploration Guild’ that’s tried to take its place. That should get you a few more men to replace your losses.”

“And as for lighting a fire under them?” Mornia asked.

“I suppose the guard should proactively see to this year’s monster migration.” Hawkwright picked at his nails. “The miners are always asking for more protection, and the Watch is always so irate when we drive the monsters north towards the coast. I think this year, a southern push will be in order.” He smiled. “I shall inform the Senate to have men posted on that little wall they have over the isthmus. I’m sure they’ll make sure no vagrants slip away into the more civilized parts of the country.”

Mornia whistled, an answering smile slipping over her own features. “That’ll get ‘em moving for sure.”

“If the only way to be behind a set of strong walls is to storm them yourself, well…” Hawkwright waved a hand. “I trust you will be able to bring the riff raff around to our way of thinking.”

“The monsters’ll prove helpful too.” Mornia was grinning now. “There’s a river, see, and if we can make sure most of the monsters follow it to that little Lady’s Port of theirs…”

“An excellent idea.” Hawkwright nodded once. “See it done, but try not to lose too many of your men in the process.” His eyes narrowed. “And remember, I need the princess alive.”

“And the rest?”

“They are no concern of ours.” Hawkwright shrugged.

“Oh? Don’t you need some of them farmers to grow your crops?” Mornia asked. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ ɴøᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“With another royal, we shall have twice the amount of Breath of Gold.” Hawkwright looked back towards the sealed garden. “There are always plenty of eager buyers to the south, more than enough to cover the cost of grain.” He turned his gaze back to Mornia. “Do well, and perhaps some of that Breath may find its way to your own pockets, for more…recreational use.”

“Now you know how to talk to a girl!” Mornia reached out to clap him on the shoulder, before clearly thinking better of it. She cleared her throat, taking a step back. “I’ll have those farmers cleared out and the Princess back where she belongs by the end of the season!”

“See that you do.” Hawkwright turned back towards the garden in a clear dismissal. A moment later, there was a shuffle as one of the guardsmen escorted Mornia from the inner sanctum. Only the captain remained.

“Is there anything else you need, Seneschal?” The woman asked.

Hawkwright heard a small note of discomfort in her voice, perhaps misplaced concern for the farmers who had thrown their lot in with the Lady of this newly minted Lady’s Port.

“It is times like these that I question the wisdom of investing solely in city guard, as opposed to a standing army.” Hawkwright shook his head. “Truly, the navy guards our borders, but what about threats from within?”

“Sir!” From the corner of his eye, he saw the woman snap off a sharp salute. “You know that the guard could rout a rebel camp no matter how well fortified.”

“Yes but what if they’re hardly rebels?” He shook his head. “By all accounts, the damn woman even paid her taxes.” Hawkwright waved his hand. “Ah but forgive the musings of an old man; I did have something important to add.”

“Yes, your grace.”

Hawkwright nodded. “See to it that Agent Mornia is not allowed back into the palace without my express permission, and ensure that every guardsman knows such by the end of the day.” He paused, taking in the sight of the garden for one last moment.

“I fear after this assignment, she will have outlived her use.”

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